Cherry Blossom of the Hidden Leaf
by Daastan Go
Summary: Her impossibly golden snatch grants, whoever seduces her, the power of the Jūbi. Now everyone wants her. (Sakura x Mass-Harem.)
1. Chapter 1

**Cherry Blossom of the Hidden Leaf**

 **Disclaimer** : Naruto and all its characters are Kishimoto's legal property. I'm not making any money off this story; however, all the Original Characters, Original Plot-lines, and Original Themes are my own.

 **Warning** : Morbid Content, Violence, Sex, Humour, and Strong Language. Reader discretion is advised.

 **Chapter One**

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Long ago, in a distant past, there existed a curious little pussy. It was covered with such an airy puff of pink hair that was soft and curly. A pink bud decorated it right above the perfect groove nestled and hidden between smooth, eternally slick lips as though of a classic, ever-ready whore's. It was so divine, so golden, and so virgin that one gaze at its eternal glory by unwary eyes was enough to send a man to Nirvana and back. They called it . . . the atavistic pussy.

It struck fear in the hearts, awe in the souls, of men and beasts. Yes, beasts, too, strove to mount that woman in a heady daze and rut to a gushing release of contentment.

A simple whiff of it exploded like a wrathful storm upon villages that drove good men insane—he would swallow a clumsily-made blue-medicine by the archaic hands of medicine men and throw his fellow men under the carriages. His cock would rise, stiff and fat, hungry in pursuit of that holy cunt.

Their hearts—mostly throbbing cocks—would give chase to the blossoming woman, plunge their steel-hard fat ones into the depth of her cunt . . . and then they would feel power rush through them in waves, but their bodies were too fragile to be that deity's container. Many died, squirting their copious fluids up into the air till there was no more to give. Their balls sagged, penises shrivelled like dry leaves of summer. The wanker's doom and fluids of crushing desires were to be their demise.

Entire villages were decimated by its might. Weak men followed in its wake, minds befuddled by its charms . . . fucking, gushing, dying. There was no end to this madness!

So, one fateful day, the Sage gathered his wits, locked away the fires of his hairy loins, put Suiton around his quivering cock, and dismantled that pussy into nine wispy parts. Then he sealed its power deep into the cunts of nine virgin women. It was to remain trapped in their wombs for all eternity.

But, alas, Man is a feeble beast bereft of logic. Those lines rigorously mated with one another like domesticated rabbits in heat; and through generations of mind-numbing retardation of the human mind and spirit, such a pussy was reborn anew, siphoning off the essence that was rent asunder into many parts . . . into a single devastating cunt of glory. They called the child Haruno Sakura, and her pussy could speak to the darkness in the hearts of Men.

This was her story . . .

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	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

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Sakura's first cry had lost the race behind the long, quick strides of her pussy's smell. The calm air of spring was permeated with its scent. Its small pink slit had throbbed and gushed forth a little squirt of that godly power, and outside the walls of their home, three men had met their makers—their cocks had grown fatter and fatter, venous, till they exploded in a viscous shower of white and red.

Women screamed as they erupted upon their faces in crazed delight. It was a misfire; their taut crowns had been aimed well at what lay beyond the walls. Many took to their heels after the sudden carnage, and some children poked at their drying balls and the remains of their limp cocks nestled between the diverse forests of dark intrigue . . . like little mushrooms, strange and sinister.

They breathed their last with a touch of euphoric rapture printed upon their countenances for all eternity. The smell of sex hung in the air for several days like a menacing spirit across the dusty road strewn with leaves. The Hokage was perplexed. Danzō had blamed the Sharingan's might. It was a tool of evil in his eyes. _Who knows what dastardly machinations it's capable of?_ Oh, Kami!

His venomous words reached the Uchiha Head's ears, and he had shuddered. His accusations just perplexed him, but things at home perplexed him more; his five-year-old often slipped an eager hand beneath the cotton-shorts to hold his little mushroom tight, with a riveted and curious expression forming on his blushing face. He had tossed aside the Genjutsu scrolls to engage in this aimless activity often . . . too often that he had happened by the disturbing scene several times a day in the past week. He was sure he had grown not a single stray curl on his round and tiny balls. What was wrong with him?

The air around them was weighty, and it made him horny quite often. He had bent his less-than-eager heavy wife over the bed to mount her in such a condition. He was surprised at his strange antics. Even Mikoto claimed that Sasuke was kicking up a storm in there. Something sinister was upon them, upon Konoha. It was about time he visited Madara and reread the hidden precepts about a certain pussy . . . could it be?

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	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

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Konoha skies were still the same, grassy plains aquiver in the summer winds. It was all the same. Summers came and went, but this was a hot one. It burnt on his skin, sweat rising to his cheeks in protest. That was not the only thing that had grown sweaty and impatient: his loins were on fire, throbbing, balls tightening.

He had already gushed inside his pants . . . twice during this walk-of-shame to the Head's house. And when his mighty pecker stood like a threatening spear beneath his pants, seeking out that fragrant tight cunt, he had thanked the wind that billowed his robes out around the hips—a natural disguise like the generous hips of a coquettish, becoming woman.

His eyes skittered around the dusty road of Uchiha village, passing over the tense faces. They all bore signs of the trees' shadows, bliss, and worry. He could smell the semen off them. The hot air was thick with the scent of sex and longing. This village would be doomed . . .

The pussy was still young: a mere bud, but it had already shackled the balls of innocent men with its love-juice chakra-chains. Legends said that they were invisible and latched onto the penises with their mouths wispy . . . like the teeth-filled, iron-hard jaws of a greedy whore.

It was etched well into their ancestral tablet that a crazed and horny man sprouted those chains after fucking her one autumn morning. His son was born with dark-pink hair—red was just a translation error in the manuscripts. And that was how the Uzumaki Clan was born. _Cunt-Chains_ were their specialty. It was the defense mechanism from the Kami to exert power over the Jūbi-Pussy.

The end was nigh, descending slowly and rapturously upon them like a juicy snatch upon the face of a jittery virgin man with the promises of fucking, only to be shown the devastating courtesy of a friend put into the zone of . . . something (friend-zone?). And when he had looked upon the mucus dangling there from the fleshy lips, he had experienced the greatness of Kami!

Such were the thoughts that raced, like rabbits chasing the cushy behinds of their willing females, in his perverted mind. Finally, he reached the house that was nestled beneath a leaning tree. A whiff of something strong reached his nose, and he clutched Itachi tight to himself. The boy had his hand in his pants again, but he did not have the heart to pull it out. The grin on his young face was making him afraid. So very afraid.

So he picked his way to the door, walking with his Shinobi-senses on high alert. Itachi's flapping nostrils caught the sluggish expansion of the smell, too. His grin widened, and adjusting his little buttocks over Fugaku's arm, he pushed his hand deeper in as if he was searching for a pouch of gold lost in a shallow mound of dirt. He was scaring the life out of him . . .

When he reached the door and opened it, the smell hit him like a boulder. There was sticky white everywhere, and beneath all that mountain of slime, there was a supine man. He could see a single clear patch there, and beneath it, a Sharingan whizzing in his eye. A cock slowly rose up from the thick white sea in excitement, a quivering reed, and a scream tore itself from the throat of his once-proud patriarch: "the end is nigh! The end is nigh!"

Fugaku let loose a long and terrifying scream and flung Itachi up into the air—he had no idea that the trajectory of the boy's flight was aimed straight at Madara's hot loins . . .

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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

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Susanoo was a handy chakra defense mechanism, and he thanked his father's greasy loins for granting him this ability; in a small moment of clarity, he had wrapped his cock in Susanoo, a swift gesture, right before Itachi's small pair of buttocks landed on that pearly crown. He had bounced off the sturdy, gauzy carapace and landed with his face in the mountain of cum that filled the room; he had been petting his cock quite generously for several weeks now.

The thing had other uses, too. He often fashioned a thin layer of it around his privates before he buried it deep into a woman. It served as a fool-proof . . . Uchiha insurance to prevent half-breeds from popping up from the wombs of unworthy women. He called it the Uchiha condom. It shielded his cock well from the lethal assaults of vaginal yeast and whatnot. An all-purpose _Perfect_ contraceptive!

"Your boy nearly crushed my loins," he spoke, emitting a gurgling sound from beneath the thick drying heap.

"Good thing the Susanoo saved you," Fugaku muttered with a stern, annoyed countenance, pulling Itachi's face out from the sticky pool. He had almost choked himself on their patriarch's cum and had nearly broken his neck, too. But his big genius head, which would develop the thinking skills of a blubbering Hokage in two more years, had saved him from a potentially injurious, or perhaps, a mortal fall. Kami bless his big, big head: he did not break his crown!

"No thanks to you," Madara shot back and rose from the foamy cum like something ethereal spoken of in their legends. When he finally got up and gave him the seething stink-eye of _Eternal_ light, the sparse amount of cum clinging to the sides of his heads like two horns . . . he was the spitting image of the Sage!

A look of abject reverence enveloped Fugaku's face, and he sat down with his hands clasped together, head bowed low before a man who was just a fourteen-year-old horny teenager for now. All anger was forgotten.

"These things are fragile," he spoke suddenly, trying to wipe his face clean, but he only managed to smear white all over his brow and cheeks. "Mio dropped her child on her husband's cock once. That's how cousin Yuu went . . . " He breathed out a long sigh, staring at his masculine artistry that decorated the room, and then his bulbous cock that was still on full display. It looked as if a torrid male-orgy had taken place in his room with a certain Mokuton-master, and Madara was the recipient of their collected love. His wood was famous for creating thick white forests and Kami knew what else. A scandalous affair.

Itachi stopped pumping his tiny prick and craned his head forward like a baby-turtle curiously coming out of its shell for the first time to see _a whole new world._ He stared at Madara's big cock, and then his own . . . then slowly directed it to Madara's, and then back to his again. A crushing emotion swelled in his breast till something popped in that impossibly brilliant mind like a tragic burst-layer of a Susanoo contraceptive: his prick was _way_ smaller!

That sex-crazed expression slowly drained from his face. A whirlwind of tormenting emotions scurried across his mind, and his tight grip around the cock slackened. Chakra flushed into his brain, a thin little squirt like the one that usually came out of his limping baby-cock, and not a moment later, red glowed in his eyes. Sharingan!

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

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He was a changed boy with a cock that hung defeated between his soft thighs. Eyes ablaze like red hot coal in a crazed face. They could see the subtle motions of his throbbing cock—where it would twitch to next. It was uncanny. Pupils shrank to little pin-pricks in the red brilliance of his eyes. He narrowed them resolutely against the power his loins generated, and in that single, magnificent moment of loathing, managed to copy the organ's natural and organic movements with near ghastly perfection.

A ghostly smile found its place across his red mouth. His gaze slithered down to his own little cock, and it rose in answer (as though a battered man out for blood) and gave a little twitch just like Madara's. His fingers reached to that prized possession filled with the torrid blood of his clan and closed around the delicate flesh. It was his! The copy-wheel was cock-friendly.

His lips moved back upon the fine layer of milk teeth, and he grinned, moving his slick hand up and down the swelling baby-pecker. A battle was raging on: it was one Uchiha cock against the other. Only one would stand victorious in the future; he had made up his mind about this obscene battle.

Fugaku's gaze bounced between the two erect penises. Madara's was still a bulbous, eager one. It just needed a cunt to complete the ritual of mating. His boy's . . . he doubted it would even be able to breach past a virgin's barrier without breaking apart right in the middle: a poor man's battle-worn spear. But he was sure that it was treading forward with a warrior's disposition. All he needed were a few hairs upon the soft balls, and hormones, perhaps.

The boy created such a fine symphony with the slopping sounds that rose from the workings of his small hand that tended to the little red hood of his cock-head. And it had little fear of that wolf maiden's big teeth, big eyes, and big, big jaws. It just needed the mantle of a black jungle. He was unabashed, but the adolescent patriarch was unimpressed.

"Just one comma," he scoffed, brushing one stray white pearl away from his pursed lips. "I awoke three all at once."

"One comma at a time, Madara-Sama. He will surely get there," Fugaku nearly simpered, heart swelling with elation at his boy's progress. He truly was a gifted one.

His eyes sparkled with tears when he gave forth another thin squirt that landed straight in Madara's right eye. It had quite the reach. The battle was on! His hand pressed down on his shaking mouth to silence the coming sobs. "Bless this boy," he said and clasped his arms round Itachi.

"What a rude boy," Madara growled and wiped the burning eye upon the sleeve. The white region of his eye was flecked with red. "Take him and his insolent cock out of my chambers. I can tolerate him no longer."

"But I—" he tried to protest, but Madara had raised a disapproving, silencing hand.

"I have read the tablet, and—" he stopped, crossing his arms across his semen-smeared breastplate and gazed to Fugaku with a hard look coming into his young face, "the pussy is upon us."

His words struck Fugaku like a bull's bloated balls; he had felt them slap hard against his face when he had tried to squeeze milk out of them as a child, thinking the long shaft to be a unique sort of udder . . . and he dropped Itachi straight onto his head again. His Hokage thinking was becoming stronger with each fall!

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	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

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Madara would have none of Itachi's silent sass and none of his passive-aggressive cock and bull. So Fugaku was left with no choice but to leave the little monster—elite Shinobi with an elitist prick in the making—back home. Before leaving, he had bent his wife over once to do his business, and then he went straight into the cloud of cock-smell that had permeated Madara's large manor.

He made a beeline for the tablet. There, it was written by the crafty hands of the _Sage of the Six Cunts_ that on the night of one full moon that woman had laid down upon the ground covered by a mantle of dry, crunching leaves. She had bent her legs, lifted her knees up into the air, and then had moved them apart. The shaft of pearly light had landed upon her cunt, its pink hair shimmering with sweat.

Her clitoris swelled the size of a bull's cock, rose up quivering and vein-riddled, and aimed at the moon as though it had a mind of its own. And like a thundering cannon, gushed forth a thick stream of squirt straight at it. It had shot out like a shooting star in the sky and had covered the moon as if a proper reflecting-layer . . . like a fine glaze of thick semen on the round, soft buttocks of a maiden.

And one man had been driven mad by the two ringed eye-balls that had popped out of her cunt. They snared the moon as it stared back at her pendulous balls, wearing upon it the red design of everyone's eternal demise. They called that dreadful, mind-breaking, orgy-infested day Mugan Inside the Cunt.

And it was a dark day, indeed. The wind was beaten down with the smell of sex. It was putrid. The Sage had escaped with his six holy cunts and cock-staff intact. He had rubbed his own semen into his eyes. Mighty were his Suiton covered loins, and his resolve was steel. So he set out to fell the Rabbit-Pussy once and for all.

And so concluded the harrowing tale on the tablet. By the time Madara had ended it, Fugaku had urinated—and ejaculated—thrice on the sacred stone-slab in fear and arousal. It was going to be an uphill battle for all Men and their fragile cocks. But the Uchiha were ready. For their eyes would never let their cocks become Mugan in her Cunt. It had to be stopped!

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	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

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A couple of years passed and evil winds grew more sinister by the hour. Flowers wilted in spring, sagging under the weighty cunt-scent of the blossoming youngling. The Uchiha were wary. So wary.

It played _Flying Thunder Cunt_ with its spectacles—one moment it was here; the next its scent vanished, slaying cock and men with absolute precision and little remorse. They did not know where to find it. The whole village was drenched in its sinful young juices. It was as if it resided inside its tight, moist, and musky channels: a village in the tight clasp of an evil cunt.

Unwary of its growth, they wandered about, aimless cocks needy and wanting. A pearly drop was forever present at the tips of their taunt crowns. When the monstrosity clenched, a torrent of her cunt's smell rushed at them, and they ejaculated in the streets and in the innocent faces of their wives . . . even children.

Deep in the jungle, a little Lolita bounced about with handlebars on each side of her little head. A pleasant gust billowed her small skirt, and an exhilarating touch of balmy spring air caressed her soft inner thighs. That is when sinister juices flowed out of her cunning cunt, splashed out, and landed all over the ground, burning the grass to dust.

And somewhere in the Uchiha compound, Sasuke caught a whiff of that. He tossed his green dinosaur aside, sat down in the tree's shade, and grabbed hold of his little pecker. Itachi looked on, horrified . . . not my children! Not my brother!

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	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 **AN: 'Suki'** means 'to like' or 'to love'.

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Sasuke's cock had risen one day in a manner one envious, little-pecker wielding catamite would call the 'tall poppy syndrome'—stood above all others it had. But to snip it there and then meant incurring the wrath of his loving brother; Itachi had been so eager to hear his first sweet words for years.

He was bent forward, with quivering hands on his knees, eyes wide and blood-shot with excretion whilst he gazed upon the sweet innocence of his little Sasuke as he said the same words with a certain soft lilt to his voice. Cool wind was a tantalizing hand against his tight buttocks. The smell was bothering him . . . again.

The little babe did not talk much. He would sit out under the slating shafts of dimming sun, breathe in sinister scents of that abominable cunt, and pet his cock silly. His pajamas always bore small stains of his . . . innocent pleasures.

The green cotton-filled toy had been his companion for many things. He had, quite diligently, made a hole right where its left beady-eye was and fashioned it to be used as his cum-dumpster. Then he had grabbed a pink coloured chalk and written ' _Sakura_ ' on its coarse back. "It's a connection they share," said a fat goose who lived three blocks down. She disappeared the next day. Itachi was a no-nonsense boy.

Itachi had found the surprise that lay in (the green toy) the hard way. He had only been curious enough to sniff and give the squishy thing a little squeeze. The next moment, like an exploding orb of Katon, it had blown up in his face.

Sasuke, throwing an air of utmost joy into his expression, showed teeth and happily pronounced his first few words with such delicate mastery: "Nii-San . . . pussy!"

Itachi, dripping cum on the yellow grass, breathed in deep and tears coursed down his boyish face. His brother had finally said his name! Oh, sweet Sage of Six Cunts, it had finally happened! His form had cast a shadow upon his countenance, but it was up to him to remain steadfast in his pursuits: he would join the criminal organization, Acockissuki, beat the bad cum out of his beloved brother, and mate with the pussy—to oblivion and beyond! In order to fell the beast, you had to mate with the beast!

Then he smiled, shadows dotting his face like moths, and sat down. Sasuke was still smiling, a red bloom overtaking his plump, sweet cheeks as he spoke again: "Nii-San . . . pussy!" How innocent and lovely his little Sasuke was?

From the living room, Mikoto watched, eyes bent on the little one. She had been driven almost delirious by the persistent show of these male passions. Her countenance assumed the agonies of frail expressions, mingled with tentative smiles of joy—all these rutting sessions with Fugaku had left her so sore.

The evening wind's breath was so replete with the evil scent. It had rusted the foundations of Uchiha clan's might; and as a bright pink hue adorned the arc of the horizon, she wore a mien of determination. She would fell this cunt if that was the last thing she would ever do—after she washed Sasuke's pajamas, of course. A mother's day was never done . . .

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	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

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Days went by in such gloom as seasons melded and merged together. They could feel spring coming upon winter's last breaths: Sakura flowers' buds were poking out of the barks, heralding the time of mating!

The pussy's scents had grown so dangerous and potent that one whiff of it drove men mad. Many had leapt from the cliff and fell onto the jutting shore-rocks in thick spatters. It was not a pretty sight. Something had to be done.

Mikoto had gone over to Madara's house to read the tablet, after she could not bear to see Sasuke mount his green dinosaur, thrust his hips against its cushy tail-bearing buttocks in a frenzy, and loosen a little squirt of arousal from his littlest cock, which was no bigger than a mushroom, into the woolen orifice that was squishy, soggy, and smelly; he had been engaged in this seven times a day—every day. Distressed and full of sorrow, Itachi wept in his hands all day long, tears flooding out of his eyes like a flood of shimmering bull's urine from its cock. He struggled to pull little Sasuke's pants up, and when he did, the little one tugged at his pony-tail (Itachi could have sworn his hair was growing thinner), bawled, and swore vengeance upon him till his dying breaths, in a toddler's tongue! It was horrific . . . the way he wept, with eyes red, (almost) toothless-mouth open, and fists raised that had clumps of his flowing hair; his beloved brother had filled the toy to the brim with his slack semen that now it oozed from all its sockets in slow runnels, with each heart-felt squeeze and thrust. Itachi could not even see 'Sakura' under all the semen-smears.

But borne along by the winds, her scents made the adolescent patriarch horny and hornier that, when Mikoto showed up at his house unannounced, he grabbed hold of her supple breasts and begged for her to lay with him, promising her the best _fuck_ of her life. That earned him a good bare-bottom smacking, which he was a little too eager to receive.

The rancid scent had misted through his hair and skin that he was half-delirious. She advised him to sheath his bulbous cock with Susanoo's chakra and semen-filtering mechanism. He did, and, surprisingly, the effect was immediate: his head was less cloudy, and his urge to squeeze Mikoto's luscious breasts to his heart's content had mellowed down, slightly . . . he had the power now! Uchiha power!

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